


Rub-a-dub-dub

by ximeria



Category: due South
Genre: First Time, Flash Fic, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-24
Updated: 2005-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Messing up the Mountiee</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rub-a-dub-dub

**Author's Note:**

> done for the [ds-flashfic community on LJ](http://www.livejournal.com/community/ds_flashfiction)
> 
> Assignment: A Dirty Fraser (or Ray, or just plain Dirty) challenge. People can be dirty, get dirty, act dirty, say dirty things...etc."
> 
> The title? Don't ask, I'm high on caffeine and sugar ::snorts::. It's a bit over the 1,000 word count, but bear with me, I just couldn't interrupt the boys while they were... um... busy.
> 
> Thanks to Nicci for pushing and pulling me along and giving me the idea for a dirty Fraser *eg* -- to Laura for an entertaining beta, kicking my weird wording into place (or in the head, 's up to you *g*)

"Wha? Something wrong? I got something on my face?" Ray frowned, shooting Fraser a questioning look across the open hood of the GTO. The artificial light of the garage lent the whole scene a faintly golden sheen.

"Ah...actually, yes, Ray," Fraser said, cocking his head to the side. "You've got..." he gestured toward his own nose and before Ray could stop himself he made a swipe at same part of his own face. And of course, where Fraser had managed to stay nearly clean, Ray just knew he had made things even worse. Especially considering the state of his own hands.

"Frase, working on the car means grease and unlike *some* people, dirt does not avoid me," Ray said, rolling his eyes.

Fraser's eyebrow went up. "I can assure you that I can get just as dirty as anyone else."

Ray snorted and stood up straight, giving Fraser his full attention, which seemed be the norm these days. Crooking a finger, he waited for Fraser to walk around to his side. Ray grinned as he put the hood back down. The GTO was fine as always.

Damn, so was Fraser. Ray didn't have to look down at himself to know his own t-shirt was spotted with grease. Fraser's clothes were... nearly pristine. Nice clothes, and Ray mentally patted himself on the back for telling Fraser beforehand to dress 'ratty'.

Ratty in the Mountie sense seemed to mean a pair of well-worn, well-washed jeans, worn thin by age and a tight, white RCMP t-shirt. Ray wondered if he could get one as a souvenir. Preferably Fraser's. Preferably unwashed as well.

"You don't even look like you've helped me with the car all morning," Ray complained, then some devil inside made him reach out, running his thumb over the same eyebrow Fraser always thumbed when he was nervous.

Fraser blinked rapidly a few times, then looked upwards as if he could see what Ray had done.

Ray's eyes didn't stray from the smudge that adorned Fraser's forehead. He bit his lower lip and tried to keep his breathing normal. A strip of dirt like that should *not* be making him hot.

Another urge he couldn't stop and his thumb repeated the previous move across Fraser's cheek. God, no one should look that good... Ray swallowed hard, not for a moment losing eye contact with Fraser.

Fraser's eyes widened, and Ray was pretty sure his nostrils were flaring as well. Oh shit, maybe he'd crossed the final line here, some rule about messing up a Mountie, even a Mountie in civvies.

"Ray...?" Fraser's voice seemed deceptively calm.

Ray bit his lower lip. His hand took on a life of its own, reached out again, landing flat on Fraser's t-shirt clad chest. Digging his fingers in a little, almost like a cat kneading its bedding, he slid them downward, slightly spread.

Dark streaks left by his fingers drew four lines from Fraser's collar, down over his chest, until Ray's little finger slipped over a nipple. Ray watched with rising heat as surprise flashed across Fraser's face, quickly changing into something else, something that made Ray's heart beat faster and his breath come out in pants.

Wow, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen anyone's pupils dilate that fast.

Okay, he'd never been at the receiving end of anyone *moving* that fast either. Blinking rapidly, Ray stared up in disbelief, watching Fraser leaning over him, a hand perched on either side of Ray's head. Ray felt the cool surface of the GTO's hood under his back and he wondered how Fraser had managed to pull that stunt.

Ray opened his mouth to say something, anything, but as always it seemed Fraser knew him too well. A warm hand lifted from the hood to cover Ray's mouth lightly.

It was as if they were caught in a bubble. Nothing registered but the cool metal under him and the light behind Fraser that cast them both into shadows. Fraser's eyes glittered strangely as he leaned down and Ray's breath stuttered out in the moment between Fraser taking his hand away and covering Ray's mouth again, this time with warm, dry lips.

For a moment they were suspended in time, warmth against warmth, then Ray moaned and opened his mouth. That seemed to light a fire in Fraser, who pushed hard down against him, tilting his head to deepen their kiss.

Ray wondered if this was what it was like being eaten alive. Fraser sure was trying... hard.

Speaking of hard... Ray arched up, feeling the hard planes of Fraser's body pressing down on him, and the strange hot and hard feel against his thigh. As if Fraser was reading his mind, the heavy body shifted and Ray's groan turned to a mewl, which Fraser happily swallowed.

Their groins slid against each other and Ray wanted nothing more than to get rid of the layers of denim between them. Unfortunately that would mean stopping the delicious friction Fraser had going.

Fraser shifted on top of him and a hand slid between their bodies, fingers deftly undoing Ray's jeans. Damn, there he went with that mind reading thing again and Ray wondered if he should be scared of that.

Oh fuuuck! Ray wondered if he'd said that out loud, which was just ridiculous, because his mouth was still sealed shut with Fraser's, busily sucking on Fraser's tongue.

Skin... Fraser's big, strong hand shifting him, pushing, pulling, gently coaxing and before Ray knew it, there were no barriers between their cocks.

Ray thrashed as he tried to push his own jeans down and dear *GOD* the metal of the hood was cold against his ass. He drew in a deep breath of air when Fraser suddenly lifted up and a moment later Ray's jeans were somewhere on the floor by the car, pulled down over his boots and off.

Ray was pretty impressed.

The move had Ray sliding down the hood but not very far. Fraser's hands were on him again, pushing him back up, Fraser's bulk covering him once more. Oh, and how the hell had Fraser moved fast enough to get his own pants down? Not that Ray was complaining, nor when his t-shirt was pushed up and Fraser's hand slid up his ribs, finding a nipple and Ray could have sworn he was seeing stars.

'Fuck, Kowalski, get with the game,' he told himself, his own hands finally coming back into play. So much to touch, so much heat... Ray buried his fingers in Fraser's hair, then slid one hand down Fraser's back, fingers closing around one tight ass cheek and then all he could do was wrap his legs around Fraser's waist and hips because that move obviously pushed more than a few buttons of Fraser's.

Their mouths were fused together again and Ray wondered where the hell Fraser had learned to kiss like that and swore that he'd make sure the damned Mountie never practiced it on anyone else. Apart from him of course.

It didn't last nearly long enough for Ray's taste, but he'd wanted it for so damned long and he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth... Maybe if he was *really* lucky he could get Fraser to give a repeat performance.

Slick heat spread between them and Ray's world seemed to stretch out and go to white for a moment, before returning to what might pass for normal. Well, he *was* still pinned, nearly naked, on the hood of his GTO... underneath a sweaty and, more than a little, filthy Mountie.

Fraser's mouth slid from his and Ray leaned his head back, feeling Fraser nuzzle his neck, both their bodies shaking a little. Ray shivered when a warm, wet tongue slid up his neck and along his stubbled chin.

"Ugh..." Ray tried to force words out, cleared his throat and tried again. "Frase... we just made a mess on the hood of my car...," Ray tried to sound annoyed, but his voice came out beyond mellow.

A slight nod was all he got from Fraser and that was felt, not seen. Finally the weight lifted a little and Ray blinked myopically up at Fraser's flushed face.

"You know, tomorrow's Sunday," Ray said conversationally as he traced idle patterns on Fraser's back under the less than pristine t-shirt. "The car needs to be washed..." Ray drew a deep breath and jumped right into it. Hopefully he was reading this right.

"I'd really like to see you in a pair of cut-offs and a white t-shirt... a wet, white t-shirt..." he trailed off.

Fraser's breath hitched and his tongue slipped out to wet already shiny lips. Then, obviously fighting a smile, Fraser slid off Ray, back on the solid ground. They both winced as the sticky mess pulled at skin and body hair, but Ray couldn't help but return Fraser's smile.

Okay, smug grin was probably more like it, but Ray was really too buzzed to care.

Ray carefully slid off the hood and cast a glance back at the car. Oh well, no dents, just... messy. Ray bit his lower lip. Heh, their mess. He turned just in time to see Fraser bend to pick up Ray's discarded jeans.

Oh... Ray fought a grin as he looked at the greasy streaks on Fraser's body, disappearing up under the dirty shirt. That, and the slightly smudged handprint on Fraser's ass.

"You know what, Frase? I think we should go back to my place and get wet in the shower right now...," Ray lifted an eyebrow at Fraser's flushed cheeks.

"I take it we'll share to conserve water...?" Fraser's voice was low and husky and Ray just knew he was addicted to that timbre and the shine of those eyes.

"Well of course, Frase. Your environmental concerns are rubbing off on me." Ray watched Fraser stop with his jeans mid-thigh. Their eyes met and neither man voiced the absolutely obvious comeback to that one.

"Wanna rub my back in the shower?" Ray asked with a leer.

A moment later Ray was pulled up against Fraser's warm body, hot breath in his ear. "That's not all I want to rub, Ray."

Ray shuddered. Oh damn, he should have done this ages ago. All this catching up they had to do. Such... hardship.

"Well, rub-a-dub-dub, Frase, time's a-wastin'." Ray's grin was swallowed and yeah, it was definitely addictive; this kissing the Mountie.

The End, or maybe just _an_ end *eg*

 **END NOTE:** No GTO, Mountie or Chicago flatfoot was harmed during this little exercise.


End file.
